


Fatal Flaw

by briarsrowan



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, White Collar (TV 2009)
Genre: Gen, Identity Reveal, Sort Of, but i think maybe it will be neat, dw annabeth knew about it, everyone whose still around is an adult now, it was a thing ill explain eventually, neal is the son of hermes, no beta we die like men, percy and neal used to date but now theyre just friends, this au is rapidly growing past what i intended, this is years after the battle of manhattan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28122762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briarsrowan/pseuds/briarsrowan
Summary: It’s late one night, they’ve each had a few drinks and Neal says, slowly, like he’s still thinking it through, “I didn’t think I’d make it through my 20s,” He says and lets it hang in the air.“How come?” Peter asks, after a moment, feeling like its safe and welcome.“Kids like me,” Neal says darkly into his glass, red wine swirling as he thinks, “we don’t tend to live long.” Neal drinks and Peter watches him. Its a fairly dramatic gesture, but Peter is not annoyed by it the way he often is with Neal’s dramaticisms. This one is too genuine.
Relationships: Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey, future Neal/Peter/El, maybe, past Neal/Percy
Comments: 26
Kudos: 118





	1. crumbs

**Author's Note:**

> i want to keep playing with this idea, this will probably be multiple chapters. we shall see.

There’s not a lot about Neal that Peter doesn’t know. For all that Neal trails mysteries like bread crumbs, Peter thinks that he understands him. Knows him. There is, however, one glaring hole in his history of Neal: everything before his eighteenth birthday. Almost exactly. 

The more he gets to know Neal and not Neal Caffrey: Con Man the more he starts to wonder. One last mystery for Agent Burke. At the same time, the more he gets to know Neal, the more Peter knows not to push too hard without reason. Above all he values the trust he and Neal have found and wouldn’t trade it. 

The first thing Neal lets slip comes loose in the conference room, during a case, a response to an off hand comment about the kind of person Neal Caffrey must have grown up as. 

“I actually didn’t graduate high school,” Neal says, picking up a case file, “Here.” He points, successfully redirecting attention and closing Peter’s window to ask, ‘what?’ before it had ever really opened. “This is it.” The case continues. 

-

It’s late one night, they’ve each had a few drinks and Neal says, slowly, like he’s still thinking it through, “I didn’t think I’d make it through my 20s,” He says and lets it hang in the air. 

“How come?” Peter asks, after a moment, feeling like its safe and welcome. 

“Kids like me,” Neal says darkly into his glass, red wine swirling as he thinks, “we don’t tend to live long.” Neal drinks and Peter watches him. Its a fairly dramatic gesture, but Peter is not annoyed by it the way he often is with Neal’s dramaticisms. This one is too genuine. 

“Kids like you?” Peter prompts.

Neal nods, but doesn’t answer him for a long time. He stares ahead drinking, and Peter can see a different moment in time warring on his face. He lets Neal ruminate. Peter doesn’t know how old Neal was when he became a con man, just knows that he showed up on the FBI’s radar around 22. From the way Neal’s talking it sounds like he started early. Started young, but something about that doesn’t sit right. Peter’s intuition tells him there’s more too it, but he’s not really sure what that is. 

“What did you mean kids like you?” Peter asks again, when Neal makes no move to speak.

Neal hums, “Kids favored by the gods,” his expression still dark, his tone humorless. Neal is telling the truth.

Peter blinks. The statement is arrogant, but it doesn’t fill the whole picture. He opens his mouth to speak, but finds he doesn’t know how to respond to that. He can tell though, that Neal is done sharing for the night.

Neal sighs, “It’s complicated,” and he waves it off. (It has to do with a war and monsters and gods and kids too young to be dealing with any of it. He doesn’t say. My father abandoned his children. He doesn’t say. He doesn’t say).

-

Years later, Peter will grow bolder, less careful about managing the intricacies of his relationship with Neal. He will turn to him on the street and ask, laughing, “What was your father like?”

Neal will freeze, go cold, but he will laugh and the try to deflect. 

Peter presses. He presses a lot these days.

“He was a lot of things,” Neal says, “there wasn’t one of them.”

Peter doesn’t press after that, for a while, but he only has more questions. 

-

“My brother,” Neal starts and his brow furrows, like he can’t tell if wants to share this part of himself. They are in the conference room, pouring over a case, but Peter stops and listens to Neal. “He was a lot like this kid.”

The ambassadors son. The boy they haven’t met, who travels across the world to spite his father, but is also, deeply proud of him. 

Peter accepts this information quietly and files it away. 

Neal bites his lip and stares at the files. 

“We’ll get him home,” Peter says kindly. 

Neal nods. Peter wonders what happened to his brother. Fuck, he hadn’t even know Neal had a brother before now. How had they missed that? 

They take off for lunch. Down on the street in the crowd Peter asks, “What happened to your brother?”

Neal looks like a rabbit frozen in the moments before it flees a great hawk, but he doesn’t run. He deflates and answers, with surprising and simple candor, “He died.”

“Oh,” Peter says, “Neal, I’m so sorry.”

“Peter don’t,” Neal snaps and then immediately recomposes himself. “Sorry,” He mutters. Peter says nothing, he waits. Neal continues, “We were really young,” He explains, “Too young and our father he,” Neal struggles, focusing on the sky and blinking. “He wasn’t there,” He says it almost as if someone is listening. 

(In the distance, thunder booms. The skies are clear, Peter doesn’t notice save for the way it makes Neal flinch just a little. He thinks it strange, but doesn’t mention it. Forgets it even, almost).


	2. percy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter learns about Percy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for such a positive response to this little idea! It's starting to take shape a little bit, I think I'm coming up with a direction. I've added in some new details.

Neal is late. Peter checks his watch. He taps his foot, checks his watch again, checks his phone. No text from Neal. Peter has texted him twice already. He’s checking Neal’s tracking data as well and he’s definitely in the apartment, but something feels off. Peter huffs, but he gets out of the car and goes to fetch Neal.

He knocks, but doesn’t get a response. “Neal?” He calls, mostly to announce himself before he opens to the door, “You’re late!” Peter swings open the door, doing his best to announce his presence and give time to any… friends Neal may have lurking around.

The apartment is empty. On the table sits a mug of coffee, still warm. Voices filter into the kitchen. Peter looks out to the balcony. Neal stands there, leaning against the railing, talking to another man. The other man has dark hair, wind swept and hopelessly messy. His face is tanned and his eyes sparkle at Neal. They seem to be enjoying themselves. (Somethings itches in the corner of Peter’s periphery. There’s something he’s not seeing. It’s right there, but he can’t seem to focus on it. Something large and dark and-)

Peter feels like he’s intruding, but he keeps watching. The man says something to Neal that makes his face twist. The tone has changed, clearly something is wrong. Peter goes to leave, but in the moment he does, the man looks up and makes eye contact with him. His eyes are a tumultuous green and looking at him head on he sees a long streak of grey in the man’s hair, though he otherwise looks young. Neal’s age maybe, or younger.

Neal looks up and then glances at his wrist.

“Peter!” He calls, “Sorry I’ll be just a minute,” He is clearly still agitated by the other man’s words, but is hiding it for Peter’s benefit. The man gives Neal a peck on the cheek and laughs, patting him on the shoulder. Neal grumbles at him and all but runs inside.

“Sorry,” Neal says, “I’m almost ready,” He busies himself, heading towards the closet. “Be right out!”

“What was that?” Peter asks, but gets no response. He turns back to the balcony, but the other man is somehow gone. When Neal comes out, you would never be able to tell he’d been rushed. He looks perfect, just like he does every morning.

“Ready?” Neal asks, smirking.

“What was that?” Peter asks again.

Neal frowns. He snaps his fingers, “What was what?” The world grows blurry for Peter, he can’t quite remember what he was asking, but his intuition has sunk its teeth into this. Something isn’t quite right.

“What was…” He trails off. Those eyes, he remembers something, “Who was that?”

Neal frowns. He weighs his options before responding. “Just Percy, he stopped by for breakfast.”  
“Percy?”

“An old friend,” and that’s all Neal will say on the subject for the rest of the day and after that well, Peter almost forgets.

-

When it comes to Neal, there’s very little Peter actually forgets. He comes back to Percy in his own time. He can’t find a single known associate of Neal’s whose name is Percy. There’s no records of anything and without more to go on he’s lost. He asks Neal about it, during lunch one day. It’s just the two of them, Diana, and Jones. They’re in the conference room, working through lunch, but Peter has hit another dead end and is looking for a distraction.

Neal blinks, “Percy isn’t a criminal Peter.”

“Yeah?” Peter says, he can’t say he believes him. “Who is he then?”

Neal considers Peter, “He’s my ex,” Neal settles on. It’s not the whole story, but it’s something, and it might through Peter off the trail a bit. He raises his eyebrow at Peter, “That a problem?”

Diana has looked up and is watching the two of them.

Peter stumbles, “No. no, not a problem,” He says, “I didn’t know you-” He waves his hand int he air, gesturing vaguely.

Neal laughs at him, “It was a long time ago,” He says, which doesn’t really mean much. Peter huffs and returns to his work.

Neal winks at Diana. She grins back at him and they silently turn back to their files.

-

“Whats his last name?” Peter asks, they’re walking towards a lead, but they have a while to go and Peter likes to multi-task (at least when it comes to Neal).

“Who?” Neal asks, though he definitely knows that Peter is still asking about Percy. Still. Peter isn't sure what is about Percy that bugs him, but he can't seem to let him go, especially now that he knows he used to date Neal. (There's something there, something Peter isn't ready for, but then again, neither is Neal). 

“Percy, your ‘ex’,” Peter ribs, clearly trying to cheer Neal up at the same time he pushes for information.

Neal frowns. It’s not working. It isn’t.

“Come on,” Peter grins at him.

And oh, Neal really can’t lie when it comes to Peter, can barely stop himself from telling him everything. “It’s Jackson,” He says, “Percy Jackson."

-

Of course, Peter looks him up. Percy Jackson. He finds lots of records, but they bring up more questions and he’s only on at the cursory Google search phase. Peter scrolls and clicks on an article about the St. Louis arch. The story is vaguely familiar. He was probably in college? When he’d heard about it. When it had happened.

He hadn’t realized it had been this kid. This man. Percy Jackson. A child involved in a man hunt across the United States, linked to multiple charges of vandalism and other offenses. It’s late, he’s in the office alone. He picks up his cell. There’s a text from El, a confirmation that she’d heard his earlier voicemail. He really should be getting home. He calls Neal.

“The St. Louis Arch?” He asks, immediately, when Neal picks up.

“The Arch,” Neal stutters, “Peter, what?”

“He’s not a criminal,” Peter quotes, “He blew up the St. Louis Arch?”

Neal goes quiet and then says slowly, “He was twelve.”

“That’s worse!” Peter exclaims, throwing his hands into the air and getting out of his chair to pace.

“Peter it’s a long story. I didn’t even really know him at the time anyway,” Neal sighs.

Peter stops pacing, sits back down, “You’ve known each other since you were kids?” Peter’s interest has shifted, confusion forgotten he hones in on this new information.

“I, yeah,” Neal says, “We grew up together,” He pauses, “Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“It’s complicated,” Neal says, almost begging Peter to just leave it.

“Neal,” Peter says. He pushes. He’s still working on when he should stop.

“Peter please,” Neal sighs, sounding genuinely strained, “I can’t tell you. Please,” Peter can almost hear Neal cast his gaze down, “Please don’t make me lie to you.”


	3. silena and charlie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tysm for all the love this fic has gotten! i hope you like this chapter <3

“What’s wrong hun?” El asks, putting her purse down on the dining room table before she leaves for work that day. They’ve been busy a lot lately, frequently missing each other. 

Peter considers not telling her, but knows that she’d see right through him. He sighs, “It’s Neal.”

“Neal?” El frowns, “Is he alright?”

Peter shakes his head, “I’m not sure exactly,” He sighs again, “It’ll be fine hun.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” She smiles, “Let me know if I can help, alright?”

-

When Neal begs off work for a early lunch, Peter doesn’t think anything of it. It’s not an unusual occurrence. Sometimes, Neal will meet up with a criminal contact, other times he really does just want to try out a new restaurant. Peter figures it doesn’t hurt to let him go and keeps working. It’s not until after he’s taken his own lunch in his office, that he realizes Neal hasn’t returned. Peter frowns. While Neal does take off a lot, something in his gut tells him to worry. Still, it hasn’t been that long and Neal is often late. No reason to raise an alarm. 

Peter checks Neal’s tracking data. He finds him on the Hudson River Greenway by the Whitney. Its a perfectly normal place for Neal to be, but also, considering his criminal history, possibly concerning. Peter has no reason to worry, not really, besides what his gut is saying and a fraction of a second of a strange look in Neal’s eye this morning. He worries. 

Peter drives up to the Whitney, grumbling as he tries to find street parking. Neal’s tracking data is up on his phone. Neal hasn’t moved since he last checked, though it hasn’t been that long. Finally, Peter parks and finds Neal. 

Neal is outside on the corner, staring North. He doesn’t seem to notice Peter approach. 

“Hey,” Peter says, quietly, announcing himself. 

“Hey,” Neal says quiet, struggling to hide how hoarse his voice is. 

Peter looks at him, really looks. The circles under Neal’s eyes are dark and his stubble has grown just a little bit past the tasteful shadow he usually maintains. They are small details, details Peter hadn’t even noticed that morning, though they now seem impossible to ignore. 

Before Peter says anything Neal says, “This was as close as I could get,” He gestures at his anklet ruefully. 

“As close to what?” Peter wonders. 

Neal doesn’t answer. He sighs and rubs his face with his hands, trying to get back into his usual skin. 

“Neal?” Peter pushes, wondering if today is the day he pushes and things break.

“It’s a long story,” Neal says, again. He’s been saying that a lot lately. Things do not break, but it feels like a near thing.

“You’ve said that a lot lately, I think it’s time we’ve talked about it,” Peter says, reckless. 

“We have to get back,” Neal reminds him. 

“Later then,” Peter agrees. 

-

Neal had hoped Peter would let it go. He doesn’t know that he wants to talk about this and he knows that he can’t talk about all of it. That he will have to choose his words carefully, or lie, which he doesn’t want. There are few truths about the world, but one is that Neal doesn’t lie to Peter, and he isn’t looking to change that. 

There’s a knock on the door. It’s late, but Neal knows that it’s Peter. 

“I brought beer!” Peter calls through the door. 

Neal sighs and smiles sadly, “You’re Neal Caffrey,” He reminds himself, “You can do this.”

Neal opens the door and so begins to open up his chest of secrets for Peter. He will tell him what he can, at least, he will tell him about today. 

The sit and chat about nothing for a while until finally, Peter asks him “For what we need to talk about,” Peter says, “Do we need to talk immunity?”

It warms Neal’s heart that Peter asks, but he shakes his head, “I think that Statue of Limitations has run out on all of it.”

Peter blinks, but doesn’t comment and then slowly, Neal begins to tell him some truths, “It’s been 20 years, exactly,” Neal takes a sip of wine, tries to remember to breath, “You’d think this would be easier, by now.”

Peter nods, but doesn’t interrupt. 

“She was my best friend,” Neal cringes at the way his voice breaks, “Her and Charlie. I loved them. We were all supposed to go to college that fall,” Neal trails off. 

“What happened?” Peter asks, when it becomes clear that Neal will not continue on his own.

“They died,” He says, simply. “Today was the anniversary of her death. Silena is always, harder, I think,” Neal frowns, “I was there. When she died. I wasn’t with Charlie, which I’ll always regret. I didn’t even know he was going until after he’d left I didn’t-” Neal stops himself there. He draws himself up, breathes. If he continues down this line of thought the anger will come and once it comes, it will be hard to escape it again. Anger doesn’t help anything, not with this. Not anymore. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter says, all heart. 

Neal nods and finishes off his wine. He doesn’t know how he looks to Peter, but he feels like he’s fraying at the edges. It's like Neal Caffrey and the young demigod he was before are blurring together. Years of careful separation are coming undone in real time. 

“How did you meet her?” Peter asks. 

Neal smiles at him. Peter Burke, for all he stumbles with matters of grace and the heart, sometimes knows exactly what to say. So Neal opens his mouth and, carefully, he tells Peter the story. 

“It was my first day at Camp, Silena was already there, though not by much, and I hid out with her during capture the flag because neither of us wanted to play…”


	4. monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal fights a monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all the love this story has gotten!

Neal vanishes during lunch. This, in of itself, is not unusual. Neal disappears during lunch frequently, especially during cases, to do all sorts of things Peter is better of not knowing. What makes it unusual is that they aren’t pursuing an active case right now (at least, not an interesting one) and the look in Neal’s eyes when he’d come in that morning. He’d checked his phone frequently, like he was waiting for something, but his well disguised tension made Peter think is wasn’t for anything good. 

So Peter is worried, just a little, when Neal doesn’t walk through the glass doors at the end of the hour. That worry grows when, thirty minutes later, he hasn’t heard from Neal. “Damn it Neal,” He mutters, alone in his office. 

Rather than raise an alarm, Peter checks Neal’s tracking data, and as has always been their dynamic, Peter goes to follow Neal. As he’s putting on his coat, Neal walks into the office. He’s smiling, but he looks tired, worried. The smiles are often fake, but this one is more plasticine than his usual shallow smile. 

Peter makes eye contact with him and for just a moment, Neal’s smile crumbles. Peter gets a glimpse of something troubled in dark. It’s gone in an instant, and there’s no time to talk about it, but Peter worries. 

-

It’s late, Peter and Neal had stayed late in the office again. They’re walking through the parking garage to Peter’s car, bantering amiably about the day. It’s easy and familiar. Peter is comfortable, he feels safe and so he misses the moment where the energy shifts. Luckily, Neal doesn’t. 

Neal dives over Peter, shoving him behind a parked car, “Run!” He says, eyes wide. 

Peter runs.

He doesn’t even know what he’s running from, whatever it is, its hard to make out from his periphery. He draws his gun and keeps running, ducking behind a support collum. He looks back. 

Neal didn’t run. 

“Neal!” 

“Stay back!” Neal shouts back, “Peter run,” He turns back, “please.” The thing, that Peter still can’t really see, can’t understand, strikes Neal and he goes flying. 

“Neal!” Peter steps out and shoots at whatever it is. Maybe El was right, he really does need new glasses. 

Neal is up. He runs towards whatever it is. “Peter stop!” He screams, which shocks Peter back. Neal draws something, it unfolds and is that, a sword?

Clear as day in Neal’s hand, is a sword. 

The thing before him comes into focus, a spitting churning monster that Peter doesn’t understand. “Fuck,” He gasps. Neal doesn’t look back. He’s charging at the monster, blade in hand and all too quickly is driving it through the beast’s heart. It dissolves around him, which shocks Peter enough that he almost doesn’t register that Neal has just killed something. 

“Peter?” Neal asks, worried. “Let’s get out of here.”

Peter doesn’t hesitate. They leave. 

-

“I never wanted this,” Neal starts slowly, “To be a half-blood.”

Peter doesn’t interrupt. He doesn’t know what Neal is saying, but he knows its important. He is still wondering what happened earlier, but this seems relevant and he is still deep enough in processing that he is content to sit and let Neal get to it. For now. 

“When I said kids like me don’t live long, I meant it. Until recently the life expectancy for most of us was maybe. 20? Some got lucky,” Neal grits his teeth, anger barely contained, “A lot of us don’t.” Neal looks up, all eyes wide and childlike, face open, “I don’t know Peter, how I did it. I don’t know how I made it. I shouldn’t have, so many others deserved it more.”

“Neal,” Peter starts.

“No Peter, really,” Neal interuppts. “Silena and Charlie and Lee and Ethan and so many other kids,” Neal does not cry, but his next words come out sad and defeated, “They were just kids. Silena was seventeen.”

Peter has nothing to say to this, it’s awful. Instead he asks, “How did she die?”

Neal smiles at him, “She saved us, probably turned the tide of the whole war. She never really thought herself a hero, and she made mistakes, but. She was a hero. She’s in Elysium now,” The last phrase seems to bring Neal a bit of peace, though Peter doesn’t know exactly what it means. Some kind of heaven?

“I didn’t know you were religious,” It’s a dumb thing to say, a weird thing to pick out of all of that (privately, his brain screams. ‘A war??’), but Peter can’t help but put his foot in his mouth.

And Neal, thank god, Neal laughs. It’s the lightest Peter has seen the other man in ages. Neal laughs and laughs until he cries and then he keeps laughing.

“Religious, Peter,” Neal gasps and then admits, “In a way I guess.” Neal breathes deeply. “What do you know about Greek mythology?” He asks. 

“Greek mythology? Gods and heroes?” Peter wonders, confused at the logic of the conversation. 

“Gods and heroes, yeah. And monsters,” Neal says. 

“What we saw earlier…”

“A monster,” Neal interrupts, trying to get it all out. “It’s all real. I’m a demigod. You don’t know anything about me before the age of eighteen because I wasn’t Neal Caffrey then. I was Danny Brooks and I was in WITSEC until I ran away when I was eleven.”

“Shit Neal,” Peter says. 

“My father is a god. I went to a camp, for kids like me, and I stayed there until I was eighteen. They protected me, but I. After the war I couldn’t- I had to go.” Neal finishes lamely. 

“Who’s your father?” Peter asks, unsure if he believes him. 

“Hermes,” Neal smiles humorlessly. 

Peter pauses, thinks. Then he laughs, “God of thieves? Really Neal?”


End file.
